


Alpha

by perspi



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Community: sga_flashfic, Friendship, Gen, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-01-08
Updated: 2008-01-08
Packaged: 2017-10-20 16:02:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/214512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perspi/pseuds/perspi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Why wouldn't I be tense? We got ourselves captured, <i>again</i>, and tossed into a <i>hole</i> in the goddamn <i>ground</i> and we've got all night in here."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alpha

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks as always to my lovely First Readers, especially **bironic** for the detailed comments and questions, and **nightdog_barks** for the prodding.

It was a dark and stormy night. Well, it wasn't, not really, except for the dark part, what with night falling and no electricity in this godforsaken little hole in the ground, but Sheppard thought it sounded appropriate.

"It was a dark and stormy night," he mused out loud, miming Snoopy's typing in the dirt of the cell. "Why did Snoopy—"

"It was the first line of a Victorian novel that completely _butchered_ the English language," McKay's peevish voice came from the darkness in the other corner of the pit. "Bulwer-Lytton should have been _shot_."

John thought this over for a moment. "Yeah, but Snoo—"

"Oh, who gives a _fuck_?" Rodney sounded more shrill than usual, but at the same time even gruffer ( _not a word, but should be_ , John thought), something that shouldn't have been physically possible.

The little hairs on the back of Sheppard's neck started to stand on end, and he carefully shifted his weight so he could get up quickly. Those little hairs had never led him wrong. "Rodney? You okay there?"

"I'm fine," McKay answered, and his voice was dangerously close to a rumble.

"You just sound—" _like you swallowed Ronon_ "—a little tense, is all."

"Why wouldn't I be tense? We got ourselves captured, _again_ , and tossed into a fucking _hole_ in the goddamn _ground_ and we've got all night in here."

Ah, claustrophobia John could deal with. "Look, it's not that bad. It's a little smaller than a 'jumper in here, maybe—"

"Like the size of the _cockpit_ ," Rodney snarled.

"But they fed us—"

"Glass of water, crust of bread, you call that a _meal_?"

"And we're not hurt—"

" _Much_." Rodney's voice was bitter, and John shifted again, startled this time. "You told me you were fine, but you're bleeding."

John reached down to touch gingerly at the gash over his hip. It wasn't big, and he could tell it was deep enough to need a couple stitches, but really, it was more oozing than anything else. "I am fine, McKay. _We're_ fine; we spend the night and Carter will have the cavalry here by morning."

"Yeah," Rodney growled quietly. "Just need to survive the night."

"That's the spirit," John said as brightly as he could manage, then he shivered. He added a hopeful note to his voice when he said, "'S cold in here." Rodney usually gave off heat like a furnace, and John moved to stand up.

"No!" Rodney said loudly, a hint of panic creeping back into his voice. "No, Colonel, _please_."

"McKay?" John was on his feet now, trying to peer into the blackness in the other corner but seeing only the dimmest outline of Rodney's foot.

"Just, _please_ , just stay there, stay still," Rodney whispered. "I can't, I can't, it's so small and we're _trapped_ I'm an _idiot_ I thought I escaped it I thought I was free I can't oh god I _need_ —"

John stood, barely breathing, as Rodney's rough litany got lower, became almost a growl. "McKay!" he said sharply and was relieved to hear Rodney take in a deep breath, the way Rodney would before he stopped panicking and saved them all. The foot pulled back into the darkness. "You need _what_ , exactly? What the hell is going on?"

Rodney laughed, a high-low hitch of breath that made John want to clap his hands over his ears. "Look up."

John looked, following the dim light to where it was coming in through the grate at the top of the hole. The light was getting steadily stronger; a sliver of moon was just starting to be visible along one edge. "I don't see anything, Rodney."

"Just the moon," Rodney said roughly, his voice dark like whiskey, tattered around the edges. "The fucking full moon."

John pulled his gaze back down, back to the dark corner, and in the growing light of the moon he could now barely see the outline of Rodney's shape huddled as far as he could get into the corner. "Oh, you have _got_ to be kidding me," he muttered.

"Really, really not," Rodney panted. "Look, Colonel, I'm barely holding it together over here, so if you could do me a favor and just. Um, just sit down? That'd be great."

Slowly, John reached back with one hand and guided himself down the wall until he was sitting again. "Okay, sitting," he announced once he'd settled.

"I can see that," Rodney snarled and continued panting, a soft _huffing_ sound that seemed to be absorbed into the dirt walls.

They sat, both listening to the rasp of Rodney's panting, and the light grew incrementally brighter as the moon crept higher in the sky. John watched Rodney's dark shape in the corner, trying to make out the details.

Rodney's eyes opened, two white, shining spots in the black. "Go ahead," he rasped. "Ask away."

"What?"

"If you're not full of questions, you should be," Rodney replied, his voice gone deep. "Talking...helps."

"Helps...?"

"Helps me stay human." Rodney snorted. "Mostly."

"Wait," John said. "With all the DNA scans we go through, wouldn't someone have noticed by now if you weren't—Wouldn't _Carson_ have noticed?"

"I _knew_ it, I knew he was taking more from me than anybody else," Rodney grumbled. "That, that _geneticist_ was probably studying it but he couldn't just _ask_ me like a normal person—"

"Guess that answers that question," John mumbled, then asked, "Does it...hurt?"

"Usually, not much," Rodney answered quietly, trying to hide a little gasp at the end. "But then...I used to just...change."

"Used to?"

"Why...do you think...I was so eager...to get here? To Pegasus?" Rodney's breathing was growing worrisome, that he allowed it to break up his talking like this. "I thought...I thought I was...free of it."

John considered this. "We had two moons on Lantea. Different...configurations of planets and moons don't cause the—" He waved his hand to encompass the dark shape he could barely see.

"I was finally normal," Rodney spat, desolation evident even in his newly strange voice. "Apparently...Earth isn't that...unique. It's...just my fucking _luck_..." He trailed off with a choked little groan.

John winced as he saw the figure in the corner twist itself further into the floor, and he sat forward instinctively, needing to do something, needing to help.

"Don't," Rodney growled. "Please," he _whimpered_.

"Jesus, Rodney, I can't listen to you like this." John was close to begging, himself, his stomach twisted into knots. The moonbeam had moved steadily down the wall, and now was bathing John in a dark noon-light that reminded him of old black-and-white movies, filmed in sunshine with a filter on the lens. Rodney remained a shadow in the corner, but John could see he was curled into a misshapen ball.

"I'm sorry, but you're going to _have_ to," Rodney snarled and resumed his soft panting. "I don't...want you...to see this."

John sat, watching the line of moonlight creep closer to Rodney's corner and cursing his own helplessness. Rodney growled again, a deep, shaking rumble, and something finally occurred to John.

"Just how much danger am I in if you change?"

Rodney's glare was cutting, flashing bright silver in the soft light. "You'll be trapped in a very small space with a panicked wolf, what do you think?"

"I mean, will I be...dinner?"

Rodney snorted sharply. "No, Colonel, I won't eat you. You're...pack. Part of my pack. But I might—" a gasping breath, "—might hurt you. I need to...run. It's too, oh god, it's too small in here."

"You've been locked up before," John said softly. "As a wolf."

"Cages aren't better...if you're...locking yourself in."

The light had moved far enough that John could see Rodney nod his head. His face was covered with a fine, dark fur and his head had started to shift, caught partway to stretching into a wolf's skull. It looked intensely painful and very, very disturbing.

"It explains a lot," John said and leaned back, forcing casualness. "You're always eating—"

"Hypoglycemic!"

"People cower in fear in your lab—"

"I correct stupid mistakes—"

"You're a dog person—"

"I had a cat!"

"Yeah," John sighed. "Doesn't explain a damn thing."

"I miss my cat," Rodney whispered. Suddenly he writhed against the floor, barely stifling a moan.

"You won't hurt me, Rodney," John pleaded. "You said I'm...part of your pack, right?"

"You're..." Rodney might have blushed if his face wasn't covered in fur, he sounded embarrassed enough, "pack leader."

"All right, so maybe if you change, you won't panic."

"I _always_ panic oh god it's so small in here there's no _room_ —"

"But you've always been alone, right?" John asked. He was nearly crawling out of his skin at the desperation in Rodney's voice; he could only imagine how Rodney was feeling. "C'mon, Rodney, you're not alone this time."

Rodney whimpered.

John pressed, "It won't hurt anymore, if you stop fighting and let it happen. In the morning you'll change back and it'll be our secret and we'll never come here again."

"O-okay," Rodney said in a shaky little voice. "I'll do it. Just. Don't be afraid of me."

"I'm not afraid of you," John assured him firmly.

"When I change," Rodney continued, "you have to be the alpha. If you're afraid, I won't think of you as alpha and...I might hurt you. I'll panic. Don't let me."

"I won't," John said as Rodney let out a long, low groan like a sigh of relief. The shape in the corner shifted, collapsing and stretching with a creak of ligaments like John's trick knee sounded in the morning and a couple sickening _pop_ s like joints relocating. When it finally stopped moving, the eyes that looked up at John were bigger, rounder, farther apart.

"Holy shit," John breathed. "Rodney?"

The wolf was big, twice as big as any wolf John had ever seen, more like the size of a big Great Dane. The wolf twisted in Rodney's clothes and yipped, moving sideways as best he could, reaching back and ripping at the pants on his hindquarters.

"Hang on, hang on, let me help you with those," John said and crouched closer. The wolf growled, baring his teeth.

"Enough!" John shouted, putting all the command he could muster into it, trying to follow Rodney's desperate instruction and be the alpha and hoping like hell he wouldn't get eaten.

They stared at each other for a long, tense minute. The wolf's fur rippled and rose above the collar of the shirt, and John wished he could fluff his own hair like that. He settled for pulling himself up out of his crouch instead, willing himself bigger. "It's me, Rodney, now be a good dog and _knock it off_."

The wolf stopped growling abruptly and dropped his head.

"There you go," John murmured and crept closer. "No need to panic, you're not alone." The wolf whined and shook, but stayed still. The moonlight filled the pit now, and John could see clearly as he worked to get the clothes free.

"Christ, Rodney, you're enormous."

The wolf snorted, and John breathed a little sigh of relief. Rodney was still in there, somewhere.

"Makes sense, I guess," John muttered as he pulled the pants free of Rodney's back legs. "Conservation of mass; you're not exactly skinny as a human."

Rodney nipped his elbow, and John yelped. "Hey!"

As soon as John had pulled the jacket free, Rodney loped away, circling the pit a few times before he stopped in the middle of the floor. He stared up at the grate, whining, before looking at John with a miserable expression.

"I know, buddy," John said and sat down on the pile of Rodney's clothes. "I want to run, too."

Rodney tipped back his head and howled. This time John did plug his ears; Rodney was amazingly loud in the small space.

As the sound died away, John looked up to find Rodney watching him with silver eyes. He was sure that in better light they'd be blue.

"C'mere," he said, patting the ground next to him. "Might as well sleep."

John wasn't surprised that Rodney came closer, twitching and snuffling. What _did_ surprise him was that Rodney turned around three times and flopped down in a ball pressed tightly to John's side.

He couldn't resist sinking his fingers into the thick fur behind Rodney's ears. Just like that, Rodney relaxed completely, pushing his head into John's lap.

"Yeah," John said, letting himself slump against the wall. "'Night, Rodney."

Rodney let out a loud, snorting sigh, and they fell asleep as the moon started its descent.  


  


* * *

  


John woke up only once, when he fell over from his slump against the wall. He curled against the warm lump of Rodney, burying his cold fingers into thick fur.

Rodney reached over and licked John's cheek, one long swipe of a smooth, hot tongue. John smiled before sleep took him again.  


  


* * *

  


John came awake slowly in the dim morning light. He was surprisingly warm, curled around Rodney like he was, and more comfortable than he had a right to be after spending a night in a pit.

Curled around a very human, very asleep, very _naked_ Rodney. Oh, right.

John tried to ease free, but Rodney had backed him against the wall. His feet were propped against another wall, and Rodney's head was resting on his elbow, so John wasn't going anywhere by himself. Then again, he was warm, so maybe he shouldn't even try to move.

But then he figured Rodney would want to know he'd changed back, so John decided to wake him up. He knew from experience the way Rodney came out of sleep ( _all ahead full_ ), so he brought his free arm around and grabbed Rodney's wrists.

"Hey," John said softly, and sure enough, Rodney startled. His flailing would have given John a black eye, if he hadn't been restrained.

"Shit, Sheppard!" he yelled.

"Morning, McKay," John drawled into Rodney's ear.

"I'm _naked_!" Rodney screeched at a pitch John hadn't heard before and tried to roll away, only to stop trying almost immediately. "I'm...talking. It's morning?"

"Yep," John confirmed. "Thought you'd want to know."

"Thanks."

John tightened his hold briefly. "'M comfortable."

Rodney relaxed. "Oddly enough, so am I. I didn't—"

"I'm fine."

"Are _we_ fine? I mean, I realize I'm still naked, which in and of itself might make us not fine, but last night—"

"All we need now is zombies, and we hit the trifecta," John mumbled.

"Oh, you just _had_ to say it, didn't you? You realize what you just did. Mark my words, the zombies will show up within a month."

"Whatever. Go back to sleep," John ordered roughly, and Rodney fell silent. They shifted a little, easing the odd ache, and settled again with comfortable sighs.

They were both dozing when John couldn't help himself. He whispered, "You know, I've always thought of myself as a dog person."

Wow, Rodney could go from zero to rant in milliseconds. "I'll have you know wolves are _nothing_ like dogs—"

"Shut up, McKay."

"—who are, after all, _domesticat_ —" Rodney stopped and smacked his lips together. "Oh my god, I _licked_ you. I don't want you getting the wrong ideas, wolves don't generally—well, _I_ don't generally—" Suddenly Rodney was gone and then pushing and pulling to get John up, too. "Give me my clothes," he said sharply.

"I'm sleeping here!"

"Not anymore, rescue's here."

John cocked his head and listened for a moment. "I don't hear anything."

Rodney didn't even bother rolling his eyes. " _Please_. I can smell Ronon coming a mile away."

And it turned out, judging from the percussive _thump_ of C4 exploding, that Rodney wasn't wrong.


End file.
